Practice Doesn't Make Perfect Anymore
She's perfect to them, but she was perfect to him before. She was perfect in her imperfections and now he just sees a paler pale face, and eyes he's never seen before, and somehow it still feels like home. Jacob/Bella, Jacob-POV.
This is a story I wrote when I was kind of on the cusp of being a Jacob fan, and being a non-Jacob fan. It made me a Jacob fan. Funny how things work out. I had tons of fun writing this. :)
1. practice doesn't make perfect anymore
Rating 5/5 Word Count 426 Review this Chapter
He loved her then. He loved when he kissed her berry stained lips, and how they would slightly bruise because she wasn't used to the force of it, she was used to it being fragile, soft, and never being quite satisfied.
He loved, loves, her always. And yet she is different, she's not his perfect anymore.
She's perfect for their standards, she's perfectly inhuman, forever ethereal and graceful. She can even play baseball now, he's heard, and it almost makes him smile, thinking of her out on a baseball field except he then begins to think of how she's probably fucking sparkling anyhow and why does he constantly torture himself so? Why does he still dream of what she meant when she had said she'd seen what it would be like? Had she seen their house, their children, their forever?
He had seen it all. It constantly replayed in his mind. Dark haired children with honey brown eyes, who couldn't play sports and barely ride bikes. He'd teach them to walk, to talk, to love against all odds. And how sometimes you got everything you wished for (even if it was for just a day, one surreal day).
She's perfect to them, but she was perfect to him before. She was perfect in her imperfections and now he just sees a paler pale face, and eyes he's never seen before, and somehow it still feels like home.
Somehow she is everywhere he wants to be.
She comes by La Push one day, and she's more Bella. Not the happy Bella, but the one that used to cry over the leach.
"I've made a mistake, Jake, I can't do this, I wasn't born for this, I can't do this, I can't do this," she fades out to a whisper and it's everything he wants to hear except he wished it would have came sooner.
"You already did."
And then a quick flash is in his eyesight, his brothers are attacking, Edward growls and pounces, and she's lost, gone from his mind as he tries to fight back.
Yet he can't. He's lost the fight that was once in him. He could fight for La Push, he could fight for his brothers, his family, but he could not fight for himself.
She's crying over him, he thinks (he's not quite sure, after all, there are no tears), and it's almost peaceful as he finally ceases to exist.
(don't forget to cry for me)